How To Reshape Destiny
by thatchickwittheface
Summary: During the Great Battle, it isn't Hollyleaf who perishes- it's Brambleclaw. Suddenly, nothing is how it should have been, and it never will be again.


When Hollyleaf was no more than a kit, the world had seemed to her very black-and-white. Morality was forever cemented in the preaching of the Warrior Code, immortalized in those ancient words of loyalty and freedom. For a kit, a child in the coldly political world of the Clans, the Code was all that mattered- a surefire formula to success. A straight path to leadership.

And then she killed Ashfur.

After that, morality was never simple- it was diluted, muddy gray, all swirled up in a thick gunk of _what ifs_ and _could have beens_. The Warrior Code could no longer protect her- it wasn't a barrier of thorns around her heart, but rather a constricting snare, squeezing her lifeblood from her as she was endlessly tortured for what she'd done.

Now, in the wake of her returning- of her _forgiving herself_ \- it seemed the world had come full circle.

Beasts were rising and stars were falling and it seemed, as it always used to, that the world was divided. Good and evil, black and white, clear, bold lines that separated Hollyleaf from who she had been- and who she'd sworn never to be again.

Now those versions of herself were swirling all around her, Dark Forest warriors with yellow, gnashing teeth that clamped on tails and legs and glistening StarClan cats with clean, starlit claws. In every shape she saw herself, the good she'd wanted to be, the evil she'd thought she'd become.

She lost track of time in the flurry, her heart beating out a hammering rhythm of _protect avenge redeem_ , dimly aware of the warmth of her Clanmates pressing against her while she fought through the cold flesh of their undead enemies. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mousefur fall, and wondered briefly if it was even possible, if such an indomitable she-cat could be taken down by something as insubstantial as a ghost. She didn't have time to dwell or to grieve, however, as yet another blow came crashing down across her face.

The battle didn't slow, and neither did her mind, but her muscles were weakening, screaming out with the strain of each and every score she dealt. Her Clanmates were flagging as well, though they fought with all the courage of LionClan. Ferncloud fell somewhere beyond the realm of comprehension, something like a dim remembrance of a dream, and Icecloud came not long after her, her blood spilling dark over the rotting ground.

In a brief lull between the waves of Dark Forest cats, Hollyleaf felt a tail rest gently on her shoulder. She flinched at the contact, expecting another paw to strike her, but it never came. Instead she turned to see Cinderheart gazing at her with an unreadable expression. Her best friend's eye was sealed shut with sticky blood that ran from her ear, and she limped slightly on a wrenched forepaw, but she looked as strong as ever.

No words were spoken. They didn't need to be, not at this point, when the adrenaline was running too high and cats were somewhere between having energy overwhelm them and falling to the ground with exhaustion. Instead Hollyleaf nodded solemnly, her throat catching on the thanks she wanted to give. What she would have been thanking Cinderheart for, she wasn't sure, but it seemed due.

The gray tabby shook her head knowingly, and the two left it at that.

Their silent conversation was interrupted by shrill yowls of fear and shock as sudden movement was spotted through the torn and useless thorn barrier of the camp. Hollyleaf's heart sped up, thinking another wave of dark warriors had arrived, but she was relieved to see the silver-tabby-and-white form of Ivypool. Beside her was Tigerheart, and between the two powerful warriors, supported by their shoulders, was the prone form of Brambleclaw.

Her heart stopped briefly, cataclysmically, the entire world pinching in and swirling shut in her vision. Color seemed to drain, save for the crimson slice of blood swelling from the gash across the deputy's neck. Distantly she was aware of walking forward, of the two warriors setting Brambleclaw on the ground, of the choked-off scream she knew must have come from Squirrelflight.

She must have looked at Jayfeather, because he was at her side in a moment- had she slipped? He was supporting her, leading her closer, murmuring something. It was only then she heard her own voice, rambling a broken litany. "Help him, help him, save him."

Beside the form of her father she collapsed, her legs crumbling beneath her like they were made of sand. His darkening amber eyes flickered to her, then to Jayfeather, to Lionblaze, who had returned to camp a moment earlier, and finally to Squirrelflight. The two had reconciled their relationship just days before, had settled into their old rhythm, and suddenly he was being torn away. It was so unfair.

"There's nothing I can do," Jayfeather was whispering to himself, and Hollyleaf imagined it had become a pounding mantra in his head. Beside him Leafpool said nothing, though her tail tip rested on his shoulder, and she too did not approach the fallen warrior.

Silence fell suddenly, crushingly, when finally Brambleclaw's jaws parted to speak. "I've always loved you," he whispered to Squirrelflight, his voice no more than a wheezing breath. "Ever since that day you decided to follow me to the Sundrown Place, I swear by StarClan, I've loved you…" he broke off in a stuttering cough, but persevered. "I will wait for you, Squirrelflight. I can't imagine living a lifetime without you."

The ginger she-cat nodded, sinking to the ground beside her mate and pressing her nose into his fur. Her voice was a choked sob, but Hollyleaf could feel it in the way the ground vibrated beneath her. "I love you, I love you, I love you…"

The deputy's eyes flickered to each of his adopted children in turn, bathing them in the warm light of his amber gaze. "I couldn't be more proud," he choked, "to call each of you my children. You've grown strong and brave and you will be remembered by all the Clans for generations to come." His eyelids were drooping now, slowly dousing the light. "You've saved us all… and you made my life worth living… all of you did…"

Brambleclaw died like that, surrounded by his friends and family, the steady timbre of his voice fading out and replaced by the mournful sobs of his family. Hollyleaf felt numb as she sat up, her pelt damp and sticky from the marshy ground, her entire world spinning. She imagined she could see the heat leaving his body in long, warm vapors, disappearing into the forest, recycling his life and spirit. Tears ran down her cheeks unbidden.

When had the Clan become so small? Had they really lost so many cats? Able to count now, she saw that in addition to the mangled bodies of Ferncloud, Mousefur, and Icecloud, so too had died Hazeltail, Foxleap, Birchfall, Toadstep, Spiderleg, Millie, Dustpelt, and Molepaw. Mousewhisker was on his side, breathing heavily as blood poured from a jagged wound in his neck. Leafpool whispered to him comfortingly, but it was obvious there was nothing she could do. Several moments passed and then he went still, his green eyes wide and glazed.

The StarClan cats had left- it wasn't clear when that happened, but she found herself missing the electric cold shock of their fur as they fought side-by-side. Dimly she recalled scenes that had felt too deep, too private to ponder- the most poignant of which being a small starlit black-and-white tom who looked at Brightheart with the weight of the world in his eyes. She had gazed back at him in silent understanding of a tragedy only they knew, and then they were fighting together, pushing back a wave of dark warriors.

Now her Clanmates were alone, and so many were dead. Lost to the leafbare breeze, borne away by the battle to end all battles. Inside she knew that more cats would have been lost, were it not for the Three. Lionblaze had protected all the Clans nearly single-pawed, but even he could not have prevented all the death. Dovewing was able to guide him to where he was needed most, dashing from one camp to another. And Jayfeather, of course, had united StarClan to fight when the Clans needed them most.

The Three had come, and had done their duty; they'd preserved the Clans, or at least what was left of them. The other Clans knew now about their powers, she assumed. Dimly she mused on what would happen next, but her mind felt muddled, weighed down with the muck of grief and exhaustion that was clinging to her every thought.

So lost was she that she hadn't noticed Firestar's approach, or the way he looked down at his lost deputy with deep sorrow burning through his green eyes. He looked very old then, very tired and battle-worn, but his voice still rang out loudly. It took several moments for Hollyleaf to come back into herself enough to hear the words he said.

"I say these words before StarClan and the body of Brambleclaw, so that the spirits of our warrior ancestors may hear and approve of my choice."

Privately, Hollyleaf thought it a very crude tradition, to name the new deputy while the old was still bleeding. She'd never dare speak out against it, though- the Warrior Code had always meant so very much to her; it was the only code worth fighting for, she'd always thought. Did it truly matter anymore? Did the Code keep them safe this time? No, they all would have died, had it not been for that ancient, ancient prophecy.

Then a thought struck her, one that chilled her down to her bones. It may very well be the case that this would be Firestar's last battle. Whomever he chose to succeed Brambleclaw would- _no_! She stopped herself. Firestar would not die, not on this day, when so many lives had already been stolen. Her grandfather was stalwart and brave and wise and he wouldn't let himself be taken down by pointless battle. Never.

Firestar looked at each and every one of his warriors, battle-torn and grieving, broken and yet resolute. Finally, he spoke.

"Hollyleaf is to be the new deputy of ThunderClan."

Air rushed from her lungs, cold and burning like fire.

She looked around, hoping she hadn't heard right. He'd said Graystripe, right? Or Sandstorm or Brackenfur or- or anyone else, really?

One by one her Clanmates looked up, watching her, silent and mourning and just _watching_. What did they want from her? What could she do? She wasn't one of the Three, was never even a mentor, she was only _three years old_ , for StarClan's sake-

Warm pelts seemed to press against her suddenly, like she had stumbled again, but she knew this time she'd been upright. Lionblaze and Jayfeather and Squirrelflight all pressed into her, not saying a word, just breathing in steady, even rhythms. "This isn't right," she said, too quietly for Firestar to hear, apparently, because he just watched her stoically. "I can't do this, I'm not- not whatever it is you think I am."

No one responded, not to offer her comfort or agree with her sentiments. They remained as satellites around her, drifting effortlessly, kept buoyant in their own tides of grief and foreboding. One by one her Clanmates bowed their heads again, turning back to their friends and family, steeling themselves for whatever was to come next.

They didn't have to wait long, because only moments later Dovewing's huge ears perked up, and her luminous eyes stretched wide. "They're coming," she said, and the cats around her bristled, mustering what little strength they could from the screaming agony of their muscles. "There are only a few, the rest must have fled," her voice was quiet, musing, lilting strangely as though she couldn't hear herself very well.

Ivypool raised her head, still bent over the body of Brambleclaw. Her dark blue eyes were the coldest Hollyleaf had ever seen them, and her pale fur was streaked through with blood, marking her as so much more fearsome than her diminutive frame would suggest. "Is one of them a dark brown tabby, like Brambleclaw, but smaller and with blue eyes?"

A murmur swept the gathered cats who had apparently forgotten about Ivypool spying in the Dark Forest. If Hollyleaf had not been so numb in that moment, she would have been annoyed at their distrust. Dovewing looked to her sister and nodded. "He's there beside another tom who looks like Brambleclaw, as well, but he's bigger-" she paused with a hardly audible gasp- "that's Tigerstar, isn't it?"

"Yes," Ivypool said briskly, standing without preamble to position herself in front of the strewn remains of camp's barrier. "And the other one is Hawkfrost." Her breath caught, just a little bit, on the tom's name, and Hollyleaf was watching her now, seeing her standing in the moonlight like the sentinel she was, and she was confused. Hadn't the young warrior done enough for her Clan already, fought hard enough to rival Lionblaze? "He killed Brambleclaw."

Hollyleaf understood, felt the fury within herself, but still she spoke out, pleading with the young warrior. "You've done enough, Ivypool," her voice sounded foreign in her own ears, scratchy and stricken by the things being piled upon her. Ivypool turned her head marginally, just enough to catch Hollyleaf in her glare, and she was amazed at the pain she saw there- and she knew there was more to the story.

"I watched you all fight like you were possessed by the spirits of stars," Ivypool said, and though her voice was quiet, everyone could hear it. "I watched the stars themselves come down to save us, and I watched my father die, and I let my deputy sacrifice his life for mine." Though no one said a word, she still bared her teeth, as though waiting for a challenge. "But I've seen worse- much, much worse. I've seen worse things since those first moons as an apprentice. I've been prepared for this."

Lionblaze touched Hollyleaf's ear gently, and she swiveled her head just a bit to look at him. Her older brother was watching Ivypool mournfully, and though his pelt was stained with the black, sludgy blood of Dark Forest warriors, he looked for all the world like a chastised kit. "We did that to her," he whispered, "we made her into a soldier."

Hollyleaf didn't deny it, because she knew it was true. Jayfeather and Lionblaze had made her a spy when she was little more than a kit, and now they were watching what the Dark Forest had left of her- but StarClan knew how proud she was of the little war-torn she-cat who, despite her bitterness and pain, still insisted on fighting for the Clanmates who could never understand her struggle.

"So I will fight," Ivypool continued, repositioning herself in front of the barrier. "And you will watch. I was born for this." Heeding the young cat's words, the Clan backed away from the torn entrance, forming a semi-circle around what would soon be the new battlefield. They dragged their dead kin along behind them, leaving dark patches and streaks of blood in the hard-packed dirt. Only Whitewing and Dovewing remained beside Ivypool, but even they backed away when she gave them a few curt words of certainty.

Hollyleaf sat at the edge of the circle with her bushy tail wrapped tightly around her paws, trying to hide her trembling from exhaustion and worry. A quick glance at her Clanmates told her they were all feeling the same, all except for Firestar who leaped up onto the Highledge to watch the brawl unfold.

"They're here," Dovewing whispered from the back of the crowd, just moments before slick shadows danced outside the walls of the camp. Slowly the shapes twined forward, seeming to materialize out of the black goo that encased their bodies, leaving them looking oily with darkness. The cat on the left was smaller and leaner than the one on the right, with dark brown tabby fur that faded into a bright white underbelly and piercing icy-blue eyes. A haunting green light seeped from a hole in his neck, the fatal wound he'd earned in his last moments of life.

The cat on the right was easily the largest cat Hollyleaf had ever seen, even bigger than Lionblaze, with monstrous paws that sprouted eagle-like talons and dark fur like that of his sons' and amber eyes that gleamed with an emotion that had long since putrefied and turned into something much, much darker than even that which had glowed within Ashfur. Hollyleaf trembled under the weight of it, seeing the massive body ripple with long-healed scars, the most noticeable of which stretched diagonally across his face. A huge gash, streaking down the length of his belly, glowed green.

"Hawkfrost," Ivypool greeted the tom on the left. Though he was smaller than his father, the former RiverClan warrior towered over little Ivypool, gazing down at her with a cold dispassion that tried too hard to hide his betrayal. Ivypool, too, had a strange look in her eyes, her hatred mixed with regret. There was a slight charge in the air, a twitch of Tigerstar's torn ear, and the Clan collectively held its breath.

The next second, Tigerstar stepped out of the way, and Hawkfrost lunged, his movements lurching and awkward with the force of his rage. Ivypool easily slid aside, obviously surprised by how uncoordinated the tom's movements were- until he lashed out with a massive white paw, catching her off-guard as it glanced across her cheek. The young warrior spun away in time to avoid the worst of the blow, but blood still welled in the raw slashes.

"You could have been great," Hawkfrost's voice was soft and smooth like untouched snow, but the current underneath it was tinged red with aching betrayal. He advanced forward, stiff-legged and very nearly trembling. His father watched, somewhat disinterested, from the edge of the camp- but no one's eyes were on him, trained as they were on the drama unfolding. "You could have ruled beside us, Ivypool. Beside me."

Ivypool's fur bushed in fury, her pupils dilating to no more than slits. "Never!" she snarled, darting away just seconds before another heavy blow crashed upon her. She danced back on her hind legs, moving with an agility that seemed almost otherworldly as she pushed off the ground, clearing the tom's back in a single jump and landing lightly on his other side a safe distance from his claws.

A huge gash opened in her wake across Hawkfrost's back, spilling black sludge over the ground. He stumbled but stayed on his feet, watching her intently. "Did you really hate me so much, all this time?" his voice was almost kit-like now, weakness a result of his grievous new wound. He stumbled into his next attack, his long, hooked claws sweeping through open air where Ivypool had been a moment before. "Was there really nothing I could have done to make you happy?"

He seemed to realize he'd said too much, as did the rest of the crowd, rustling with a hushed murmur of apprehension. Ivypool, for her part, looked disgusted, but there was pity in her gaze, a strange emotion to feel for the formidable ghost. "I was a child, Hawkfrost," she hissed, ducking in close to land another, shallower slice across the tom's back. "You shouldn't have put so much faith in me."

Finally seeming to lose grip of whatever control he had, Hawkfrost lunged frantically, his clumsy lashing claws easily avoidable. However, instead of stepping aside as she would have been able to, Ivypool stood still. She allowed the blow to come scoring down her shoulder, staring up at the huge tom with wide, searching eyes. He halted, startled by her complacency, his claws still buried in the flesh that now ran red.

Gently, she stretched her neck as far as it would go, touching her nose to his shoulder in a grotesque parody of a warrior's naming ceremony, and his shaky intake of breath revealed just how deeply the gesture touched him. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you." Ivypool murmured. "If I could do it all again, I would have let myself love you." It was as close to a confession as she could muster, that much was obvious, but it was enough for the ghostly warrior.

As gingerly as possible, the dark tabby pried his claws from the little warrior's shoulder. She hardly winced, just staring expectantly as he stretched his neck for her, baring his throat with the blankest of expressions on his face. No words were spoken as she carefully, almost lovingly, stretched up on her back legs to sink her fangs into his throat. Blood dripped between them, ran down her neck and chest, painting her black alongside the red of her own blood. He went limp in increments, a gurgling sigh escaping at the same moment the ghostly green light in his throat died.

She let his body drop with reverent gentleness, staring into his dulling eyes and stroking his fur with one paw as he faded into nothingness.

Silence descended like a blanket of snow, and Hollyleaf watched, and as one the entire Clan focused on the shadow-cloaked figure of Tigerstar emerging from the darkness.


End file.
